Pretty Little Psychic
by sincerely.sweetheart
Summary: Wake me up inside. Call my name and save me from the dark. Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. Save me from the nothing I've become. Bring me to life.
1. Chapter 1

Whenever it happened, it would wake me from even the deepest sleep. _It _was the basis of my being. _It _was why I was here. _It _controlled me. At times I was so confused that I couldn't remember what _it _was. This was one of those times. I didn't know what it was and I wasn't sure I wanted to. _It _scared me.

I was asleep. I was dreaming. Then _it _happened. The violent attack of images, sounds, and feelings that flooded my mind with a maddening intensity. I didn't understand them...I didn't want to. I saw people, places, and events happening that I knew had yet to take place. I saw things I had never seen, heard, or experienced before. They were the future...and I knew them.

This always happened. It would take a long amount of time, I didn't know how long, until I eventually let the feeling wear off. All I had to do was curl up in the corner and feel _nothing_. The nothingness would soon turn into sleep...sleep into dreams...and more times than not...dreams into visions. It always took me this much time to wake up abruptly and process this all before the first blink of my eyes.

**Blink.**

I was awake now. I knew where I was...but did I really? I knew this place, but I had no idea what it was. This was the most familiar place in my mind. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew it's feeling. The pitch darkness covered every inch of the small confines. I could feel the rough floor underneath my body. I was curled up into a corner- a place where the floor met the wall. I figured it to be the farthest place from the light. The light was a rare thing to see, but it was a sign of bad things to come. The loud creek of the door and the sudden burst of brightness meant only one thing.

It was time.

Just thinking about it made me cringe into the wall. This time I knew it was coming. It was what had woken me up...I already _saw _it. Why did they do it? I didn't know... I figured it was my own fault. Then again, I didn't know how to stop it. If I could I would've. I would've without a further thought. I didn't like it...it was the reason for my suffering. Was it suffering? Not quite... In reality, I didn't know. I never remember the exact things that happened. I just knew that once I was in there, I never wanted to go back. Everytime I woke up from my visions, they knew. They would be here soon, and this made me anxious.

**Light.**

They were here....and they would take me away. I already saw it. I always saw it. At least I knew it was coming, there was no suspense. But was the knowledge comforting? No...it made me sure. And knowing for a fact that they were coming...that pain was on its way....was disturbing and terrifying. I couldn't resist...it wasn't a choice. They _would _take me...and I wouldn't like it. All because of _it. _

The worst thing was that all I saw...was bad.

**Voices.**


	2. Chapter 2

After a few pathetic attempts at resisting their force, I gave up. I let them drag me away to the place. Two oversized, muscular men hauled me down the rugged halls and into a brightly lit, white room. In the center was a platform serving as a table. They lugged my small frame up onto it and strapped me down. I learned not to complain. Since the first time it happened, although the ocassion I could not recall, I knew that speaking at all would only fuel their fury. That was, until _he _came in. _He _was who performed the sequence. _He _was evil and I hated _him. _His name I did not know, but they called him _Chang. _He was small, probably my same height, of Asian ethnicity and a sardonic grin. His pet name for me always sent shivers through my body.

He entered the room, pulling on gloves. "How is my pretty little psychic today?"

I stared straight up at the paneled ceiling and refused to look at him. I would not answer his questions; I would not acknowledge his presense. I would only remain silent until the process was over. He would try to get me to talk, but I wouldn't. He'd get his answers without my help and I didn't plan on aiding him in any way.

"Any interesting dreams last night?" He stood behind my head and began to take down wires.

His faithful bodyguards shuffled out of the room. A thin nurse replaced them and came to stand by my side. Her hair was graying and her hands were cold. She didn't show any emotion on her pale face, just followed orders.

"We know you aren't going to tell us anything," He trailed his finger down my bare arm, "So, as you know, we have to take measures."

The wires had been clipped to my body. A cap was secured around my head and locked into position. The pain was coming. I closed my eyes, ready to accept it.

A rapping on the door startled the nurse, and caused her to pause over the power button. I didn't open my eyes completely, but I couldn't help but peak.

The doctor went over to answer it, someone shoved a piece of paper towards him. He read it over quickly, paused, looked at me thoughtfully, and then nodded at the messenger.

"Gleena, you can do the process without me. I'm needed elsewhere." He said to the nurse and then left the room.

Gleena had an unsure look on her face, but wasn't about to let him down. She walked back over to the switch. Before she flipped it on, she turned to me and murmed a sympathetic 'sorry.' I only closed my eyelids once again and it started.

It only took a few seconds before the electricity waves took over my thinking and sense. I was unaware of them turning it off and unconnecting me. I didn't remember them dragging my limp body back to my cell. I do remember having no visions.

After my so called "treatments" my visions would cease for a few nights. I would be able to stay in my cell in peace. The darkness wouldn't be disrupted and I wouldn't be disturbed. There would be no fear of sleeping for fear of having a vision. They wouldn't come until they came back. And they both _would _come back.

When I woke it was not out of shock from my visions, for none had happened while I slept. I woke from the pain in my body. Every inch of me ached and pulsed. I then remembered the few seconds before the start and the few seconds after of the raging pain. I knew I had probably slept days, but I felt thoroughly exhausted.

I knew it was now time for the third part of my being. The first was the isolation of my cell, the second the pain, and the third: my other _him. _The good_ him_. Roscoe: my angel.

It was a soft push that opened the door, not the loud thudding fists. Before I could move, I had a beam of light from a lantern being shone into my eyes. His warm fingers were pinching my wrist and he sighed in relief when he felt my dull pulse.

"Oh, Alice..." He breathed. "Can you hear me?"

"Roscoe..." I rasped out. It wasn't a question...but a confirmation. A sweet, sweet confirmation.

"I'm here. It's okay." He whispered soothing encouragements to me while he checked my body for fatal injuries.

"Can you move your fingers?" He asked, holding my limp hand in his large one.

I flexed them the best I could. Before he asked I bent all my limbs at their joints...already knowing the procedure. Roscoe came in after every treatment. He would always nurse me back to life. Sometimes, even, he would stay with me. He'd let me talk to him, but he wouldn't question me. All he would do was sit next to me, hold my hand comfortingly, and listen to me tell stories of my past life. They would normall cut off short at my sudden loss of the memories. Tonight I was struggling especially.

"She tried to stop them. She was fighting the doctors. Her name...her name was..." My mouth gaped open, but no name came out.

"Cynthia." He filled in.

"Cynthia...yes. How did you know?" I asked.

"You've...told me this story. Many times. You're very fond of her."

"Oh...well, yes. She's really all I remember of my life." I blinked back tears. Tears never came to my eyes. They were forbidden. They were symbols of weakness. And _I _was not weak.

"You're life is not over." He touched the tip of my nose before rising. "I better go. They might wonder where I've gone."

"Alright..." I got up as well. "Thank you, Roscoe."

"No problem, Alice."

"I'm sorry..." I shook my head. "I must bore you with my stories."

"Quite the contrary. I happen to love them. I look forward to seeing you." He stopped. "Not that I enjoy your suffering..."

"No, I understand. You better leave."

"Yes. Well, goodbye."

"Bye, Roscoe."

Then he left. He took his light with him and he took my happiness. I felt happy whenever I was with him. He brought me the only warmth I knew existed. It was a shame that he thought he was so incapable of helping me. He considered helping me to be freeing me from this living hell. I considered helping me to do exactly as he does: to just be there for me. To help me when I'm ready to give up, to listen to me, to be my _friend._

I hardened at the thought that to see him again I would have to endure another shock treatment. They were horrible...a living death. But if it meant I could see him again...then so be it.

So I slept...and awaited the visions to start my circle of life all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

They came....like never before. I was, for the first time, in my vision. As usual I felt helpless and out of control of the situation. What I saw before me took a stab at my heart...or what was left of it.

I saw Roscoe. He was beautiful. His honey gold hair...his strong jaw. But there was a problem with his beauty. It was impaired. There was a redness covering him. It was _blood_. His body was twisted in a way that it shouldn't have been. And his eyes...they didn't shine... they were cold, hard stones inside his head that no longer held thoughts, or memories, or feelings. He wasn't there.

**He was dead.**

I sat up quickly. I felt terrified.. This wasn't normal. I was usually shooken up and disoriented. But, no. I knew exactly where I was...I knew exactly _who _I was...and I knew _exactly _what would happen.

"**NO**!" My screams bounced off the walls of the small confines and came flying back at me. The sounds echoed in my personal dungeon and haunted me.

I threw myself into a ball and tucked my head between my knees. I wouldn't accept this. I had to be wrong. I must've seen the wrong thing. He couldn't...he couldn't...

Before I could complete the dreaded thought the door was opening. It wasn't a soft push...it wasn't the violent plunge. The door simply opened and for the first time without a sound. I instinctivly kicked back into the farthest corner and cowered there.

"It's alright." An intoxicatingly sweet voice called out to me. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Although I knew shouldn't have responded, I couldn't help but answer the stranger. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to help you." He stepped closer.

"Who goes there?" This voice boomed into the room and smashed all traces of the song the first had created.

I expected my first visitor to answer the second, but he was gone. Just like that...

"Who opened your door!?"

My breathing came in gasps and I was too shocked myself to answer.

He left with a mumbled "stupid fortune teller."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't have time to think it over.

I ordered my thoughts. I had a vision. In my vision Roscoe died. My visions always come true. There was no way to stop them from happening as far as I knew. Yet I felt that somewhere inside of me I had the hidden strength to stop _anything _that might harm my Roscoe.

I needed to see him. The only way for that to happen was to cure me. To cure me I had to be injured. To be injured I had to have been treated. To have been treated, I needed to have a vision.

But I already _had _a vision. Why hadn't they come? Was it because my vision was unlike all others? Did they know? Should I alert them?

The last question sounded absurd even in my own head. But if it meant I could warn Roscoe...then it must be done.

Or maybe...

"Hey, you!" I yelled through the door, knowing that someone must be standing guard.

When they didn't answer I began pounding on the heavy door with all I had. Finally after several minutes of beating, it opened.

"What do you want!?" Someone growled.

"I request to speak to the doctor." _What am I doing?_

"I...you...uh...." The guard was dumbfounded. He wasn't aware that I could even speak.

He left, but not before shoving me back into my pit.

I tried to set up a plan of action in my head, but they came back too soon.

"This way." The same guard grabbed my arm, but not with as much force as usual.

I had expected them to take me to the white room, but they passed that door. We walked for what seemed like miles. It was wearisome on my and my weak body. I admit, my body was weak...but my mind was of a lion.

The guard opened a large metal door and pointed inside. "He's in there."

My knees didn't buckle and my consciousness didn't slip. I stood my ground and faced the doctor.

"What's the problem?" Chang asked from behind his desk.

I felt the need to lie. "Why?"

"Why, what?" He asked, although we both knew he knew _what._

"Why do you hurt me? Why do you force my answers out of me?"

"It's actually simple..." He stood up and began to pace. "I don't find it fair for such a tiny, little girl to have the power over nature, time....and the future."

"But I _don't._" I countered.

"Ah..but you _do._ You, my dear, can predict things that none of us can. There are very few of you..." He walked up to me and stood inches from my face. "And I don't like any of you."

"Why!?" It came out harsher than I had planned. "Is it jealousy? Is it insecurity? Oh, no...I know. It's _fear. _You're afraid because _we _know and_ you _don't."

"I can see I underestimated you. You're much more than a pretty little psychic..." That blood chilling grin spread across his face, but I didn't let it faze me.

"So that's it!? That's why you torture me!? _That's _why you took me from the people I love!?" I broke on the last note and caught myself before I lost it in front of him.

"You don't even remember the people you love! You don't remember your life at all!" He laughed incredulously.

"Yes I do." I was fighting tears and they were almost winning.

He looked questioning for a second.

"See? You can't stand to think that I have feelings or emotions. You can't live with _me _living. You do it because you feel power over me, don't you!?"

His confusion turned to rage and his hand struck out and slammed my face.

"Shut your mouth, girl! You know _nothingI!" _

"I know..._everything._" A small, mocking smile lifted the corners of my lips.

Chang yanked me off the floor by the neck and drug me out to the hall. He dropped me there and commanded that the guard who had brought me carry me. He wasn't so gentle this time.

This time, we did not pass the white room. We went right in. I was once again strapped to the table and no one hesitated at the switch. The voltage attacked me with full intensity...like nothing I had felt before.

I knew that I would certainly die. Maybe that would save Roscoe...


	4. Chapter 4

"Alice?"

I heard it...clear as a bell. The sad thing was that I knew I was either dreaming...or dead. There was no way I could hear that angelic voice in this lifetime.

"Alice...are you there?"

I heard it again. It was so real. I could feel it...almost taste it.

"Roscoe..." I might as well talk to this beautiful ilusion and enjoy it.

"I'm here."

I could even _feel _his hand clasping mine. It made me feel peaceful...like accepting death with open arms. If I was dead...and if he was dead...then maybe we could be together forever.

I was selfish and I wanted to _see _him. I let my eyes open and a smile fell onto my lips. It dropped as soon as they were open. He _was _there...but so was everything else. Really, everything else was nothing. The nothingness I used to welcome, I now loathed.

"I'm not dead?" I squeeked.

"Not while I'm still alive." He mused lightly.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, hoping I would wake up to the glowing, fluffy clouds of heaven....or even the burning flames of hell.

"Roscoe...I saw it."

"What did you see?" He asked, taking my pulse.

"I saw you..." I choked back a cry. "You were dead."

He froze. "In a vision?"

I nodded, knowing he would sense my confirmation.

"B-but your visions...they always happen...right?"

I nodded again, not able to say anything.

"Can...can you stop them?" His voice was reaching hysteria.

I shook my head this time. "I've never done it before."

"But the future...isn't it always subject to change?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. I no longer held in my tears. I let them freely slide down my cheeks.

He sat me up against the hard wall and took a place next to me.

"Roscoe...I'm so, so sorry. I wish I could stop it." I cried.

"Shh...no, it's not your fault."

He let me sob myself to sleep. I would've given anything to have peaceful slumber. But fate was not on my side...not ever.

I would've died just to have another vision...one of Roscoe alive...showing that we triumphed over the past one. I didn't. But I _did _have visions. They days of wait didn't happen, they came the same night. Each one clearer than the last. Each one scarier. Each one showing the same thing. Each one showing a new _him. _

**He was going to kill me.**


End file.
